


Christmas Lights in Steve Harrington's Eyes

by Hippiebuckyharrington



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Party, Cuddling, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Steve is sick and Billy takes care of him, billy pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hippiebuckyharrington/pseuds/Hippiebuckyharrington
Summary: Billy's world shifts and narrows to Steve, the way it always does when they exist in the same room, in the same space. Something in Billy unlocks, unclenches, unfurls when Steve is nearby, like just looking at him makes Billy better. Max glances up from the comic, takes one look at Billy and smirks."Heya Steve." She calls out, doesn't even turn. Steve is stamping snow off his shoes and he smiles over at her, sniffing deeply."Hey." He says, and then coughs so hard that he nearly falls over. Dustin frowns at him and catches his elbow. The kids all turn around and peer at their favorite babysitter, Jonathan and Nancy lean around the tree to stare, and Joyce and Hop come into view.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 7
Kudos: 201





	Christmas Lights in Steve Harrington's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I.... don't know what this is honestly. I needed a break from my other WIPs and this happened. Since it's Christmas themed and seeing how Christmas is tomorrow, have this little bit of fluff.

"Why did I let you drag me to this?" Billy hisses out the side of his mouth, leaning slightly so Max can hear him. She laughs a little and grins up at him. 

"Because I promised you a certain someone would be here. And you love me." She says, smirking. Billy rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, a certain someone who hasn't even arrived!" Billy gripes, and downs the last of his eggnog, alcohol free because the brats are here. Max rolls her eyes. 

"Would you be patient, I promise, he will be here. Just relax." Max whispers lowly, and then moves away from Billy's haunt in the corner of the Byers' living room. 

The Byers' Annual Christmas party is in full swing in the house. Christmas lights are strung all around the room, trailing down the hallways and into the bedrooms, which Will had smiled about, and explained that when he had disappeared the lights had been how he'd communicated. The kitchen table and the counters in the kitchen are covered in food and drink, bottles of eggnog, juice, and a huge punchbowl filled with some fruity drink that Billy didn't like. There are bags of chips, pretzels, popcorn, and more Christmas cookies than Billy had ever seen in his life among the drinks and sprawled over the counters. There are a few fruitcakes tucked amongst the others but Billy doubts that anyone will eat them. 

Christmas music is crooning from the radio, just loud enough to be heard everywhere in the house, but not in a way to hinder conversation. There's a Christmas tree posted up in the front windows, and it's snowing a little outside. It's all horribly cliché, and to make matters worse, everyone here is wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Even Chief Hopper, which Billy is a little stunned at. 

Calling it a party may be overstating things, it's only Joyce and Hop, who are slow dancing in the hallway laughing softly, Jonathan and Nancy, who are in some sort of heated debate by the Christmas tree, and the Party minus Dustin, who is apparently getting a ride from Steve, who isn't here yet. 

Billy isn't sure why he is here, honestly. Not that he'd be doing anything else but maybe watching reruns of sitcoms on TV in his apartment. But he wouldn't be here and that's the important thing. 

He wishes at least that the eggnog or the punch was spiked, or that he had a little weed on him. But he's poor right now, spent too much of his last paycheck on Max's Christmas present. So, no weed from the shady guy who lurks in the Hawkins High Parking lot, and no driving a town over and paying way too much for the college kids to buy him whiskey, or beer. There's barely money for pizza, and groceries. But the look on Max's face, in just a few days, is gonna be totally worth it.

And Billy is no stranger to hardship, so he goes to bed hungry a few nights a week, at least no one is hitting him anymore. 

He lurches out of his corner and heads to the table of food, filling up with more eggnog, stretching a little. His scars from the summer pull slightly with the movement, especially in the cold, especially when it snows. He grabs a handful of chips and retreats back to the shadows, and just watches. 

Mike, Lucas, and Will are having some heated discussion about a DnD campaign a few days ago, El and Max are sitting nearby, Max showing her something in a comic. Nancy and Jonathan are still arguing, but it's the fond kind they always do. He can't see Joyce and Hop from his corner but he thinks they might still be drifting in their slow dance. 

Billy aches for a smoke, but there isn't money for that either. If Joyce wasn't dancing, he'd bum one from her, but he doesn't want to interrupt. 

And besides the cold would make the scars seize up and hurt if he stepped outside. 

He might just go home, let Max catch a ride. He tosses back the last of his eggnog and is just preparing to leave when the door opens, and in spills Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington. 

Billy's world shifts and narrows to Steve, the way it always does when they exist in the same room, in the same space. Something in Billy unlocks, unclenches, unfurls when Steve is nearby, like just looking at him makes Billy better. Max glances up from the comic, takes one look at Billy and smirks. 

"Heya Steve." She calls out, doesn't even turn. Steve is stamping snow off his shoes and he smiles over at her, sniffing deeply. 

"Hey." He says, and then coughs so hard that he nearly falls over. Dustin frowns at him and catches his elbow. The kids all turn around and peer at their favorite babysitter, Jonathan and Nancy lean around the tree to stare, and Joyce and Hop come into view.

"He's fine." Dustin says, and then runs over to join the DnD discussion. Max and El watch Steve for a bit longer, but Nany and Jonathan wander to the kitchen to get food, and resume whatever point they were arguing. 

But Billy's attention never wavers from Steve, who doesn't even take off his coat or scarf and collapses into an arm chair. His eye's drop closed, but his shaking doesn't stop. 

"Harrington?" Billy asks softly. 

"Heya Bills." Steve croaks, honey eyes cracking open again.

"Steve honey, maybe you should go home…" Joyce asks, softly, stepping aside when the boys head down the hall to Wills room for more discussion, privately. 

"I'm fine, Mama Joyce." Steve says softly, smiling at her. 

"Quit worrying, he's practically grown." Hop says, and tows Joyce back into the hall for more dancing, Steve's eyes drop closed again and the girls move onto the end of the couch. 

"Sit down Bills. Your hovering is making me nervous." Steve grumbles. He's called Billy that since October, when Billy was released from the hospital and Steve started inviting him over for the Party gatherings. 

Billy sighs and sits on the other end of the couch, nearest Steve. Max and El immediately scoot closer and demand he reads to them. 

Within an hour though it's obvious that Steve is not fine. His forehead is sweaty, and he's shaking and coughing. Billy leans over to Max, who has moved on to braiding El's hair. 

"Can you get a ride from someone?" He whispers. Max glances up. 

"Are you leaving?" She asks, voice soft. El's big eyes stare up at him too.   
"Yeah, I'm gonna get everyone's favorite babysitter home." Billy whispers. Max nods and goes back to El's hair. 

Billy gets up and wanders down the hall, Joyce and Hop are playing cards in the kitchen, sitting on the floor like teenagers, both smoking. He'll tell them last. He pokes his head into Will's room. 

"Henderson. I'm taking the world's best babysitter home because he looks like death, can you catch a ride?" Billy barks. The kids all roll their eyes at Billy's sarcasm, but Dustin nods and turns away. Billy closes the bedroom door behind him and then goes to Joyce and Hop. 

"I'm taking Harrington home." He says. Joyce looks up. 

"Oh, thank you Billy!" She says. "I know this is a lot to ask, but if he's got a fever maybe get him to take a cold shower or bath. Here, take some soup." Joyce says, she parks her cigarette between her lips and goes to the pantry handing Billy a couple cans of soup. She also hands him a bottle of cough syrup, and tucks a pack of cigarettes into his jacket pocket with a smile. 

"Quit momin' them Joyce. Come play the game!" Hop says gruffly, Joyce laughs, and pecks Billy's cheek. 

"We'll make sure Max and Dustin get home safe. Jim, patience." Joyce huffs, but she's laughing. Billy goes back to the living room, and kisses Max's hair. 

"I'll call tomorrow, shitbird." He says softly. 

"Bye Billy." She says absently.

Billy grabs his keys and shrugs on his coat. He walks over to Steve, and gently lifts his arm around his shoulder, and pulls the taller boy up to standing. Steve sways a little. 

"Bills?" He whispers.

"Yep, it's me. Let's go." Billy says and tows Steve out to his car. He loads him into the passenger seat, along with the soup cans, and then settles himself and starts the car. 

"Are you kidnapping me?" Steve whispers around a cough. Billy laughs. 

"I'm taking you home." Billy says, pulling out of the drive. 

"No, please. Can we not go there?" Steve asks, and then coughs again. "Please Bills, I don't wanna be alone." And Billy never could say no to Steve. So instead they go to his apartment. 

It's a tiny studio apartment above a coffee shop as down town as Hawkins gets. Billy parks and helps Steve out and up the stairs. He unlocks the door, Steve leaning heavily against him. He lets them in, dumps Steve on the bed (there isn't anywhere else to sit) and then goes to put the soup in his tiny kitchenette. 

"Alright Harrington. Here, go change into these, bathroom’s right there, and I'll make some soup ok." 

"Wow Nurse Hargrove." Steve mutters, voice lilting toward nasally with his cold. 

Billy rolls his eyes, and turns to the stove. The bathroom door clicks closed and Billy smiles a little and empties a can of chicken noodle soup into a pot on the stove. He adds water like the can says but also rummages through the fridge for some left-over veggies from some casserole he made. He adds them and stirs the soup, watching it intently. The bathroom door clicks open again and Billy waits for his bed to creak as Steve sits down. The bed doesn't creak though, and Billy nearly jumps out of his skin when a fever hot forehead presses into the back of his neck and arms wind around his stomach. 

"Harrington?" Billy whispers, standing as still as he can. 

"I feel like shit Bills." Steve whimpers. Billy can feel his breath against his skin, and he suppresses a shudder. 

"I know, go lie down. I'll get your soup ready, and maybe some tea? That sound good, pretty boy?" Billy whispers. He needs to get Steve off him before he does something stupid, like tell him how much he really cares or turn and kiss him. No, Steve needs to go lie down.

"Noooooo. You're warm. Don't wanna be so far away." Steve whines. Billy sighs, turns down the heat on the soup and turns around to extract himself from Steve. 

"Come on." He says, sighing. He takes Steve's hand and guides him to the bed. He plugs in the Christmas lights Max bought him and insisted he hang around windows. He turns off the light over his bed, leaving the soft glow of Christmas lights on Steve, and the light over the kitchen. He pulls back the covers and shoves Steve down. 

"Don't be mean! I'm dying." Steve whines, but he sinks against the pillows and coughs a little. Billy rolls his eyes. He tucks the quilt up over Steve's shoulders and goes to click on the TV. He browses the channels until he finds A Christmas Story. 

"I love this movie." Steve sighs happily. Billy chuckles and goes back to cooking. He checks the soup, and starts a kettle boiling.

"Why are you so far away? Billllllllllllyyyyyyyy." Steve whines. Billy huffs. 

"Would you relax Harrington? I'm right here. My apartment is one room, I'm making you food. You can literally see me, quit being a baby." He snarks over his shoulder. Steve pouts, but doesn't say anything. Billy pours the soup in a bowl, and fills two mugs with hot water and adds a blueberry tea bag to each. He sticks a spoon in the bowl, sets it all on the cookie sheet he uses as a table, and turns to turn off the kitchen light. He heads toward the bed, but stops short when he sees Steve. 

Steve is curled into the hoodie Billy lent him and the blankets on Billy's bed. He looks gorgeous in the soft glow of the Christmas lights and the TV, even with the sick flush on his cheeks and his sweaty forehead. He's also crying. 

"Steve? What's wrong?" Billy cries, hurrying over to set the cookie sheet on his dresser that doubles as a night stand and run to Steve's side. "Steve?" Billy whispers, crouching down next to him and brushing his hair back. 

"You… you yelled at me." Steve whispers, lips trembling, tears filling those Bambi eyes. Billy blinks at him. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. Here, honey, eat something. You'll feel better I promise." Billy says. Steve blinks at him a few times. 

"You'll stay, you'll sit with me?" Steve whines. Billy huffs a sigh. 

"Yes, princess." He teases. "I'll sit right here with ya." He helps Steve sit up and balance the cookie sheet on Steve's lap, taking his own mug of tea and sitting next to Steve. 

Steve leans against him and eats his soup, slowly and carefully. When he's done Billy takes the cookie sheet and bowl and moves to get up. 

"No… don't go!" Steve says, grabbing onto his arm. Billy sighs, sets the tray on the ground and settles back against the pillows. 

"I'm right here. I do gotta get up and get you the medicine Joyce gave me. It'll make you feel better, I promise." Steve pouts but let’s Billy get up. He clears the dishes while he’s at it and the comes back with the medicine. He gives Steve the proper dose, and gets him the biggest glass of water his apartment can accommodate. 

"Bills?" Steve asks, when Billy goes to set the glass on the dresser by Steve. 

"Yes Harrington?" Billy asks. 

"Can we cuddle? I feel so gross and you're warm and I really just…" Tears are gathering in Steve's eyes again, and he swipes at them angrily. "I cry a lot when I'm sick, sorry. The soup helped, so did the tea, but can you hold me? Please?" Steve whispers, and really, how the hell is Billy supposed to say no to big doe eyes, and messy hair, and pale skin swimming in Billy's hoodie. 

"Yeah, pretty boy. We can cuddle. Drink some water, I'm gonna put on sweats. I'll be right back." Billy whispers. He changes quickly, and the slips under the covers, adjusting himself comfortably against the pillows before opening his arms. Steve eagerly moves into them, curling on Billy's chest. Billy pulls the covers up over him and thinks about how weird this is. 

They don't do this. Steve calls him Bills, and laughs at him in the Camaro at the quarry sometimes. Billy calls him pretty boy or Harrington, but rarely Steve, sometimes Princess when he's being a brat, but never anything more intimate. They share joints, booze, and stories about shit dads and absent mothers in the BMW or the Camaro, but they don't touch. They don't cuddle. They don't touch at all, and Steve certainly doesn't cry when Billy moves across the room. Steve doesn't curl his fingers around Billy's necklace and wiggle around so he can tuck his face in Billy's neck. And Billy most certainly doesn't wrap his arms around Steve and lean his head against his. 

It's snowing outside, and it's warm lying there. Steve is a nice weight against Billy and he wonders if maybe he's dreaming. 

He's been in love with Steve Harrington for two years now, and if he had his way, Steve would never leave his arms. He tucks his nose in Steve hair and breathes deep. The movie winds down, and another, that Billy doesn't know, starts playing. Billy isn’t really paying attention.

"Bills?" Steve asks an indeterminate amount of time later. Billy lost track, just focused on the feel of Steve so close, finally. 

"Yeah pretty boy?" Billy whispers. 

"I hate being sick." Steve mutters. Billy laughs.

"I know, sweetheart." Billy whispers, and the freezes. Steve doesn't appear to notice. 

"I don't gotta go back home tonight do I?" Steve asks. 

"'Course not. You can stay." Billy whispers. Steve huffs. 

"Good. I gotta pee." He announces and then gets up, shuffling to the bathroom. Billy gets up and turns off the TV. He stretches and gets himself a glass of water, and jumps a little when the phone rings. 

"Hello?" Billy says, leaning against the counter. 

"Hey Billy. Is Steve alright?" Max whispers. Billy laughs a little. 

"He's whiney and clingy as all hell but he's fine." Billy says.

"Wait… are you with him?" 

"Yeah, he didn't wanna go home. So, I brought him here." There's a crackly silence. 

"Are you gonna finally tell him?" She asks. Billy opens his mouth and then sighs. Max is well aware of his crush, and fully supports it, but is a little sick of his pining. Before he can answer, Steve shuffles out of the bathroom and comes over, curling up against Billy's chest and leaning heavily on him. 

"Can we got to bed, Bills?" Steve whines. 

"Oh my god. Is he leaning against you?" Max whispers. Billy huffs. 

"Told you he's whiney." He chides. Steve pouts, and pulls back.

"I'm sick, I feel like death Billy. I'm not whiney." Steve whines. Billy chuckles and wraps an arm around his waist. 

"I know, pretty boy. I know. Just a second. It's my sister. You can go lie down. I'll be right there." Billy says. Steve huffs. 

"No, wanna be near you." 

"Max? I gotta go." Billy whispers. Max laughs a little. 

"Have a good night. Talk to him." She says and hangs up. Billy hangs up the phone too, and leans back looking at Steve, who blinks up at him sleepily. 

"You this cuddly with all the boys when you're sick or is it just me?" Billy teases. 

"Isssss just you." Steve whispers, and snuggles closer. Billy blinks at him. 

"Alright, pretty boy. Bed time." He says and ushers Steve toward the bed. 

They settle under Billy's covers. Warm, cozy flannel sheets that had been a little expensive but worth it. A quilt his mom's mother made her when she married Neil, that Billy snuck out of the house when he was kicked out. A slightly moth-eaten afghan he found at a thrift store, that is so clearly made with love he couldn't help but buy it. It's comfy and warm in his drafty little studio apartment. 

Steve snuggles under the sheets and looks at him, hair spilling on the pillow. He reaches over and tugs Billy's hip until he slides closer. Billy drapes an arm across Steve's back, both on the edge of their pillows watching each other in the soft light. 

"I like your apartment." Steve whispers. Billy smiles. 

"Me too." Billy says. And on a whim reaches up and brushes his fingers through Steve's hair. He closes his eyes, and sighs. 

They just stay in silence, knees touching, Billy's fingers in Steve hair. Steve reaches out and curls his fingers in Billy's sleep shirt, an old Henley. 

"Who knew you put on a shirt to sleep." Steve teases. Billy laughs.

"You knew that you idiot. I've slept over before." Billy says. Which is true, he and Steve hang out at the Harrington mansion a lot, watching movies, TV or shooting the shit out by the pool. Billy started bringing over old T-shirts and shorts to sleep in, because he stayed over that much. They don't go to Billy's place though. That's just not what they do. That is until Harrington’s stupid cold. 

Steve's cold thumb spreads slowly across the worry lines on Billy's forehead.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout Bills?" Steve whispers. 

"Nothin'" Billy says. 

"Mind Flayer." Steve whispers. Billy sighs. 

It's like their code, of sort. After the hell that was this summer, Steve and Billy talked and talked and talked and talked about everything. He doesn't remember who used it first, but the point is the same: if Billy had asked for help, had spoken what was going on with the monster, things would have been better. But Billy had been an island then, unable and unwilling to ask for help. It's not a blame game, it's just a way that they, and to some extent the kids, can ask to be honest sort of thing. When one of them says Mind Flayer it means be honest, say what's bothering you, no judgement, just help and support.

Billy sighs again.

"Harrington." Billy says. 

"Please. Talk to me." Steve whispers, hand dropping back to Billy's chest, fingers fishing out his pendent, and tangling in the chain. 

"I'm in love with someone." Billy breathes. Steve stills. 

"Oh?" He whispers. 

"He's better than me, and I'm a mess." Billy whispers. Steve frowns and glares at him.

"You are beautiful and perfect, stop it." He snaps, sleepy though so the words lack heat.

"Whatever you say Harrington." Billy whispers around a chuckle. 

"Bills." Steve says, in that voice he reserves for Billy, Dustin and Will, and sometimes El.   
Billy sighs and brushes more hair off his forehead. 

"Sleep pretty boy." Billy whispers. 

"Mmmmmkay." Steve snuggles closer. Tucks his fever hot face into Billy's neck. "Bills?" He says after a beat. 

"Yes Harrington?" Billy whispers back. Steve breathes out a contented breath, wiggles closer, throws his leg over Billy's hips under the blankets. 

"Whoever he is isn't gonna love you the way I do." Steve says. And Billy's whole world stops, and then seems to spin wildly in the opposite direction. 

"Wh-what?!" Billy croaks. Steve huffs a little indignantly. 

"You heard me." Steve snips. "He isn't gonna love you the way I do." 

"You… you…" Billy stutters out. Steve sighs and pulls back. 

"I'm tired of pretending. And I can't breathe out my nose, and I'm achy, and you are the only thing I want. I just want to lie in your arms forever. I want you to hold me, and make it better. I love you, have for a while. And it's fine if you love someone else. Really, baby, it is. I'll wait for you, because loving you makes it clear why Nance and I didn't work. I don't want to scare you, but I'm never letting you go once I got ya, so if you need some time to figure out some things, that's ok. Just don't make me get out of bed and go home." Steve says, face serious in the way only Steve Harrington could be about this. He pulls the blankets up, pulls his hands away from Billy, and curls up, closing his eyes. Billy is reeling, head spinning. 

It's fast, and impossible to grasp, and Billy lurches up, breathing heavy. He stumbles to the sink and braces against it, taking slow deep breathes. Steve doesn't say anything. Billy downs a glass of water, and turns back to the bed. Steve is just a lump under the covers. 

It's fast. It's impossible. But it makes sense. Steve is probably it for Billy. Has been since this summer for sure, but if Billy is honest, probably has been since before that, maybe since they met. 

Billy loves Steve, there isn't anyone else. There isn't gonna be. Fighting off an interdimensional monster together, and then recovering in the hospital with him by his side kinda cement things. Those aren't things you do with a one and done, or a summer fling. That's forever kinda crap. 

That sniffling lump under the covers is forever. Billy feels settled suddenly, with that realization. He grabs a clean washcloth from his little closet and gets it wet with cool water. He walks over to Steve and sits on the bed next to him. He drapes the cold cloth on Steve's sweaty forehead, and Steve's honey brown eyes open. 

"Hey pretty boy." Billy whispers. 

"Hey Bills." Steve whispers back. 

"There isn't another guy, Stevie." Billy breathes. The Christmas lights in the window reflect in Steve's eyes, and he's so beautiful, even sniffling, that Billy doesn't know how he doubted it. This is where he's meant to be, always, looking at Christmas lights in Steve's eyes. 

"No?" Steve breathes. Billy smiles at him.

"I love you, Stevie." Billy whispers. Steve beams. 

"Kiss me." He demands. Billy laughs. 

"You're sick, I don't want your germs." Billy grouses. 

"Kiss me, Bills. Please." Steve says, and Billy rolls his eyes but leans in, it's just a brush of lips, brief and barely there. But it's worth it, and it's soft, sweet.

"Now get back to bed and hold me." Steve demands. Billy laughs, and gently climbs over him, wiggling under the covers, and spooning up against Steve's back. 

"Happy now, pretty boy?" Billy breathes. 

"Yes. Much." Steve says and kisses Billy's hands. 

"Get some sleep, princess." Billy whispers, kissing Steve's hair and the back of his neck. 

"Night Bills." Steve mutters, snuggling into the sheets and Billy's arms. 

"Goodnight Stevie." Billy whispers, feeling lighter and better than he has in a long time.

And when Billy wakes up to fingers combing through his hair, and the low drone of the TV in the background and Steve kisses him the next morning, and asks "Still love me?" the answer is so easy:

"Always pretty boy. Always gonna love you." Billy whispers, and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr [here!](https://hippiebuckyharrington.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
